All That Jazz

I spent the next week consumed by paranoia. When it came time for me to leave my apartment for a performance, I would walk quickly, scanning the shadows and alleys for any sign of danger. I was sure The Joker would come into my life again, and I knew it wouldn’t be pretty when it happened. But not knowing when it would happen put a terrible strain on my life. But by the second week following my release from the hospital, my paranoia had become a minor annoyance that budded and then died shortly thereafter. It was a Tuesday evening, one of the rare nights when I wasn’t selling my voice on the corners of New York City. I decided to hit the grocery store since my cabinets were bare and I had a wad of cash burning a hole in my wallet.

I hastily scribbled out a grocery list and snagged my keys as I waltzed out the door. I hummed to myself as I thumped my way down the stairs and into the street, climbing quickly into my car. The engine roared to life and I made my way across town to The Village, home to my favorite market in town. The owners had taken me in for a while when I was just starting on the streets, so I returned their kindness by shopping at their market. The high prices didn’t bother me at all; they always had just what I was looking for.

I was a few blocks outside of The Village when I got stopped by a red light. Sitting patiently, I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel and hummed another song. I looked out my window to watch the light on the other side of the street, when I saw him…walking toward my car. Oh shit! Come on, light, turn green! Come on, come on! Of course my window was down because I love the wind in my hair, and he knew it was me, or maybe he’d forgotten he’d almost killed me. He got to my window and held a knife to my face.

“Out of the car, dollface. I need a ride.” He said calmly. I looked at the knife, then back up to him.

“You could ask, you know.”

“You could say no.” he said simply.

“Well, of course I’m going to say no, you almost killed me the last time we met! So I think I’m just going to drive away.” The light had finally turned green and I was itching to get away from him. He made me nervous. With a sigh, The Joker reached in my window and put my car in park, then walked around to the passenger side and climbed in. He stuck the blade to my throat.

“Drive. You’re holding up traffic.” He said cheekily.

“You know, sometimes I just want to hit you. You make me want to grind my teeth.” I said as I begrudgingly shifted into drive and rolled forward.

“Good girl.” The Joker retracted the knife. “I hope you weren’t running any errands.” He laughed. “By the way, did I tell you how I got these scars?” I ignored the question and focused on the road.

“I was actually; I need food desperately. And I’m not your pet.”

“There’s plenty of food at my humble abode.” He swept his hand through the air.

“Just tell me where you’re going so I can get back to my life.” I tried my best not to groan with frustration.

“Your life is now entwined with mine.” He looked over at me, and smiled at my infuriated look. “Tough luck, dollface.”

“I have a name. Use it.” I said through my teeth.

“Why don’t you tell me what it is and I’ll think about it.”

“I ain’t tellin’ you jack shit.” And out comes the street talk.

“I just knew you’d say that.” The Joker giggled. “Luckily, I came prepared.” He rummaged through his jacket pocket and produced a folded paper. He unfurled it and cleared his throat. “Jazmyne Abryane Maria Summers, age twenty-two, born in Cairo, Egypt on August 22nd, 1986. Moved to Tom’s River, New Jersey at age 11. Parents are Richard and Rehema Eshe Summers, father is violently abusive. Height is five feet, four inches. Weight is one hundred and fifteen pounds. One younger brother, Jonathan Michael Summers, age 20. Often visited an Uncle Alex in Vermont over the summer, learned to shoot a multitude of guns. Hobbies include music, art, sports, martial arts, dancing and gymnastics. Dropped out of high school freshman year, and ran away from home the same day. Lived with the Stevensen family in Greenwich Village for six months before renting an apartment on 32nd and Brown Avenues in September of 2002. Bought a used metallic orange 2002 Pontiac Sunfire in May of 2005.”

I wanted to puke as he read my life back to me. How the fuck did he find all that information on me?

“I’m a good researcher.” He shot me a knowing look. Oh, if looks could kill. He’d be a crumpled heap on my floor mat. “You can stop plotting to kill me. Can’t be done.” He said, looking out the window. “Take a left here.” He instructed, and clenching my jaw, I obeyed and turned into the dark alley.

“Charming place you got.” I said in a scathing tone.

“You know what your problem is?” he wagged his finger at me, in a shame-on-you manner. “You don’t look at the big picture, dollface. This happens to be the back entrance to where I live.” He hopped out of the car and I put the car in reverse. “Where do you think you’re going?” he paused at my door, giving me a look that said ‘You’re stupid for trying to leave’.

“The grocery store, to get food. Have fun terrorizing people. Make sure you look both ways before you cross the street, ok? Actually, don’t bother. You might do me a favor and get hit.” I started to reverse.

“That’s pretty hostile for a girl your size. I just might have to force my hospitality on you for that.” He reached in the open window again and shifted into park before grabbing my keys and opening my door. “Come on, dollface.” He said cordially as he grabbed my arm and pulled me from the car. He started to shove me toward an open door with a man in a clown mask standing inside. I elbowed The Joker in the stomach and bolted down the street, only to be caught around the middle by the clown man, who held my arms to the side so I couldn’t use them. He forced me over to The Joker, already recovered from my elbow.

“Glad to see my research was correct. We’ll use a little more force with you.” He said and the clown started to pull me into the door. I knew if they got me inside it was over. Hoping I didn’t pull a hamstring, I kicked straight up to clobber the clown man in the forehead. He dropped like a fly, and I ran further down the alley. Need to go up. Up, up, where can I go up? I spotted a closed dumpster and a fire escape just above, but pulling the extension down would make noise. This would be tricky. Think, Jazz; think back to all those years of gymnastics. Praying for a silent landing, I took a running leap and rolled onto the top of the dumpster, then jumped up and grabbed the edge of the platform and swung myself over the edge. Lying on my back, I took a breather, trying to calm down. I wasn’t safe yet. At least I hadn’t made any noise. And I wasn’t too out of shape either.

“She’s gone, Boss.” A muffled voice called. I guessed it was another clown man.

“No she’s not. Look up.” The Joker called back. My eyes widened in fear and I scrambled to lie against the staircase. If I was lucky, they wouldn’t see me. I squeezed my eyes tight and prayed to every god I could think of.

“I don’t see her, Boss.”

“Check the fire escape. The girl’s a gymnast; the first place she’d go is up.” I heard the fire escape being pulled down and The Joker waltzed up, stopping in front of me. “Boo.” He said with a laugh, as he bent over to pick me up. He didn’t get the chance, because I lashed out and kicked him in the knee, but instead of falling over in pain, he growled and reached up toward my face. I felt a pinch in my neck and the world faded out.

~~~~

Jazmyne woke up in a room she’d never seen in her life. It was done entirely in white and it made her eyes hurt. She jumped out of the bed, startled and feeling very vulnerable as she remembered where she was and what had happened. She threw herself against the walls, struggling to make herself heard.

“Let me out! Joker! You hear me?! Let Me Out!!” she pounded her fists on the walls.

“Will you shut up?!” The Joker burst through the door. Jazmyne rushed past him, sprinting for the door and freedom. The Joker grabbed her arms and slammed her against the wall. She glared up at him, her chest rising and falling with each frightened breath. “Thank you.” The Joker released his hold on her and she slid to the floor.

“Why am I here?” she asked, defeated.

“I missed your pretty face.” He clucked his tongue before showing a creepy grin.

“Really?” Sarcasm flew from her mouth unchecked. “You missed me? Then why dump me in a hospital?!”

“You know, you’re shouting again. I’m starting to think you don’t like me.”

“You don’t make any damn sense! You kidnap me and take me to a hospital, then you kidnap me a second time and tell me that you missed me?!”

“Shut up.”

“No, I want to know what’s going on right now!”

“I said shut up!” The Joker yelled. “Maybe I know what you’re going through and I felt sorry for you. Maybe I thought you would like to know what it’s like to play my little game. Maybe I just wanted to shake things up a bit! Who knows what’s going through my head?” The Joker laughed.

“You call this a game?” Jazmyne waved her arm around the room, shaking with anger. “Kidnapping, killing innocent people; that’s a game to you?!”

“Uh huh!” The Joker giggled happily. “You just had that look that screams ‘I want to kill somebody.’ Did you know that?”

“You’re crazy, did you know that?”

“No. No, I’m not. I don’t understand why people keep using that word around me. Do I look crazy to you?” When Jazmyne didn’t answer, he continued. “Do you wanna know how I got these scars?”

“I thought ignoring the question would send a strong enough message, but it seems you’re amazingly thick-headed. No, I don’t want to know how you got the damned scars.”

“No? Not even curious?” The Joker prompted, sliding his hand along Jazmyne’s jaw. He lifted her eyes to his and quirked an eyebrow. “I could show you.” He offered, the blade appearing in his hand so fast I swore it was magic.

“No.” she said evenly.

“You ruin the fun in this, you know? Here’s the deal. I’ll let you decide what happens to you tomorrow. You can either kill someone on the street, or I get to kill you and the person of my choice. Oh, and you have to kiss me before I kill you.” The Joker shot a disturbing smile at her.

“Why would I kiss you?”

“Oh you know, the old last rites thing? Oh never mind, never mind.” The Joker waved his hand dismissively. “Do you know how to use a gun?”

“Yes. You already know that.”

“Oh good! I knew I’d find a use for you.” The Joker said.

“No, I’m not going to do it. I will not kill an innocent person.” Jazmyne folded her arms across her chest.

“Innocent? No one is innocent, dollface. We’re all guilty of something.”

“And what are you guilty of?” Jazmyne asked.

“Being beyond salvation.” Jazmyne looked at him, wondering for a moment if he was letting her see past his exterior for the briefest of seconds.

“I don’t believe that.” She said, reaching out to touch his arm. The Joker jerked out of reach and jetted out the door.

“Don’t waste your time, dollface.” He called over his shoulder as the door slammed shut behind him, leaving Jazmyne to her thoughts.





AN: Let me know what you think! Flames are welcome!